Insomnia
by Radwimp
Summary: 3,000 words in which Karkat hasn't slept in forever, and Sollux arrives fearing that he's accidentally culled himself, only to find that he's just in dire need of three things: a sandwich, a shower, and a nap. Ripe with potentially red feelings, swear words, and angst, and is probably much better than this summary makes it sound.


Even before the end of your game, you had always had trouble sleeping.

This was nothing new.

But fuck it all if going on some three hours of sleep in an entire perigee wasn't just fucking with everything. Preexisting insomnia coupled with the actual legitimate terror of what awaited you the second you shut you eyes was bringing everything to a whole new level. When it was bad before, eventually you would just pass out, your body shutting itself done right in the middle of conversations with whoever, or coding, or on one monumentally embarrassing and extraordinarily dangerous occasion, when you was practising with your sickles.

Now, even when your body did slip into unconciousness, your mind would actually jerk itself back to complete wakefulness. As if you needed more excuses to hate yourself.

When you'd still been on Alternia, and not floating somewhere in between universes with five other trolls, two humans, and about three think pans between everyone that wasn't yourself, and when you were somewhere between delusional paranoia, occasional hallucinations and where you are now, you would give into temptation and practically demand that Vriska simply shut you down like a machine. She would comply with some kind of mocking exasperation, and then cackle at you madly when you woke up, usually about three nights later.

Given that she'd been dead for about a sweep now, that obviously wasn't a thing that could happen.

You stormed about the meteor, day, night, whenever. It's not like it wasn't big enough that there wasn't enough space for you to trapeze around at ungodly hours of the day and not have someone be pissed off at you and attempt to rip your fucking throat out for waking them up. You occasionally went to see Sollux (which would generally end in either verbal or physical fights neither of which you won, the nooksniffer), or chat with (/rant at) the humans. You coded until you got so frustrated you wanted to get into a physical fight with _yourself_ for being so fucking incompetent at everything. You'd actually tried that once, and that had been the three or so hours of "sleep" that you'd gotten from knocking yourself unconscious with your own fist. Yeah, that was embarrassing.

Today marked the day that you'd successfully entered into a new perigee without a wink of any actual sleep, and also the longest you'd ever gone, not like it was any kind of accomplishment. You were well beyond irritability or paranoia now; so far beyond anything resembling your normal lack-of-sleep behavioral patterns that you didn't even know what the fuck to do with yourself anymore.

You remembered Sollux at his worst, where the thought of food had made him be sick all over the place, and lifting his arm made him tremble, let alone trying to get him to stand up and get into his recupracoon where he could wait this out. It made you sick to think that that's exactly the state you were in now, only instead of severe depression that you couldn't control, you'd brought this upon _yourself_ like some kind of attention starved wriggler. You loved the solitude, and at the same time hated the fact that you were alone, too afraid to leave your respite block, terrified that you would drown in the ablution chamber or your recupracoon, or that you would _fall asleep _because holy fuck out of all of those options, the other two sounded considerably more appealing right now. You'd spent the past two days jerking in and out of sleep on your couch, trying to focus on a movie, any movie, fuck, but even your favourites couldn't hold your attention at all.

Not twenty minutes ago, you had just given up and turned the movie-playing device off, and curled up into yourself. God, were you so _useless_, you couldn't even just rest like a normal troll, you had to wear yourself down to complete utter fucking exhaustion before you would even think about it. You were disgusting, smelled disgusting, looked even worse, had lost enough weight from your combined lack of sleep and lack of food intake for the past week to have your collarbone jut out like your horns did, and for your ribs to casually rival your grub legs in how much they protruded from your skin. Your knees pressing into your eyes, you warbled, low and exhausted, and felt wetness seep into your pants before immediately freaking right the fuck out.

You leaped up like someone had set you on fire, eyes wildly screaming around the room, before remembering that _no one on this godforsaken rock even cared anymore, Karkat, pull yourself together for fuck's sake _and _it's not like anyone could even get in here anyway, you complete moron, _collapsing unsteadily back onto the cushion with a relieved sob, immediately coiling back in on yourself.

You was cold, so cold, but you couldn't move to go and get a blanket, because every time you did you trembled like it was going out of style. You weren't sure if your body temperature had actually dropped that low or if it was the shakes from muscle fatigue, or what, but you were afraid that you might collapse on the way in any case. Despite how cold you were, you were also positive that the couch was considerably more comfortable than the solid stone floor. You heard the blips from Trollian (_and they were so __**loud**__, God, how did you even handle that normally_)but couldn't bring yourself to go and see who was trolling you, couldn't even move the meter and half or so that it was from your couch to your computer, wasn't that pathetic, but if you squinted just right you could make out several different colours gracing his screen.

Jade, indigo, violet, teal, red, and mustard, all on separate windows. No wonder your computer was going crazy.

You felt a stab of guilt at the indigo (_you're even a fucking useless moirail, look at that, wont even respond to him when he probably needs you for something what if he's lost it again-_)

They'd probably been pestering you for a while, given how the windows were laid out across the screen. It made your eyes hurt to look at it for too long, though _(why is your screen so bright for fuck's sake, can't even prepare properly for moments like this-_)_,_ so you turned your head back in towards your legs, pressing until he felt the throbbing behind your eyes subside a little.

You felt like you could sleep like this, maybe, drift slowly into the absolutely hiveshit realm that were your dreams right now, filled with horrorterrors that had actually happened, blood everywhere, covering everything, you were running, hearing the echo of someone (Nepeta, you think) screaming in the distance, you couldn't calm Gamzee down _why, fuck, no this wasn't supposed to happen, you were supposed to shoosh and pap until everything was okay again, until this psycho murderclown turned back into your stoner best friend, but something blunt struck the side of your head with force, and black spots rushed up to your vision and you feel light, sickening vertigo until everything rushes back to you and you are level with where Sollux was lying on the floor, missing teeth and eyes, and all you can see is yellow, yellow everywhere, until a grey-on-black spotted leg blocks your field of vision and-_.

Something taps on your door, gentle, but you hear it like a gunshot, snapping straight as an arrow, eyes wide and pupils like slits in the dark light. There is a murmur outside the block, but it isn't loud enough to be a conversation, more like someone swearing softly to themselves in gentle hissing tones as you don't respond, or make any move to answer. Your bloodpusher thuds in your chest uncomfortably, and you are hyper aware of how loud it is, how every knock against your ribs feels like a blow, and you take deep breaths to calm yourself down, each one rattling your form.

You hear the crackle of energy before you realize what it is, pulse spiking again as your vision darts to your door in abject panic, and hear your lock click open and think '_psionics_', dimly, and it takes a second for you to register what that means-

"What the fuck happened to _you ?"_ you hear over the sound of your teeth chattering, and fuck, why is that even a stress response of yours, that is so dumb-"Jesus, KK, you look like someone punched you in both eyes and then starved you for a perigee."

"Only a week, actually." you reply, already curled back into your knees in embarrassment and shame, and your voice is cracked and strained, hollow and exhausted, and it doesn't sound like you at all, sounds like some kind of shell of you and your glad it's kind of muffled, because that is definitely not okay. You almost regret opening your mouth, because not only does Sollux get this strange look on his face like you'd hit him with a fish, you didn't really notice how raw your throat felt until you tried talking.

He is over next to you in a second, fingers brushing the back of your neck idly to check your temperature, and it feels like tiny electric shocks running down your spine in a bad way, so you flinch away. "Fuck, I wasn't serious KK." he says, swallowing, "Do you want to? Eat something."

The hollow-feeling space between your ribs plunges so suddenly you almost gag into your knees, but what comes out is a strained "_No_." that you think gets your point across fairly well.

Whywhywhy why was it Sollux, why couldn't it have been Dave, or Terezi, or someone that already didn't like you or was too fucked up to care? Why did it have to be someone that you actually liked, and now subsequently had to act like an actual troll around instead of some useless paranoid sack of sleep deprived shit like you actually were right now?

"Why are you here." you croak, and it's not a question.

"The last time anyone talked to you was four evenings ago, and that was me over Trollian for about five minutes before you got hysterical over something and left." you could tell he was looking at you. You don't remember that. You don't remember a lot of what's happened recently. You suspect it's because you haven't slept at all. "The others were starting to suspect that you'd accidentally culled yourself doing something stupid, or that..."

Normally you'd growl at that, but right now breathing takes energy so you say nothing, becuase you know what he was about to say. "_or that Gamzee had gotten to you somehow._" and you give a full body shudder that is so intense it actually hurts you.

He pushes you around a little, until you untuck your chin from your lap and look at him. You know that you look like shit, smell like shit, feel gross and sticky and covered in three day old sweat, but seeing his face just then proves it, and you look down at your hands, pale and still trembling slightly, in shame.

"Sorry." you breathe, and you're not actually sure if he hears you or not, but then again, you're not actually sure what you're apologizing about either: this whole situation maybe, or possibly the fact that you smell so bad even you can smell it, or something else entirely, and without your knowledge, it's become kind of a mantra "sorry, sorry, sorry-"

"Shooosh." he breathes between his teeth, "You do this for me every time I get into one of my moods, KK. I would be a really shitty friend if I didn't do the same for you." the psionic clicks his glasses up higher onto the bridge of his nose, and then puts his hand back on your neck. He's extremely warm, God, you lean heavily into the touch, "Can you stand?"

You're not sure if that's a good idea, so you pause before shaking your head. "I'll fall."

"You're not going to fall. Come on, I'll help." Standing up, he picks your arm from where it's coiled in between your torso and your thighs, and hauls you up off the couch with surprising ease. Your legs shake like you've never used them before in your life, and you almost pitch over right then and there, but Sollux's grip on your upper arm holds you steady. "Shit, you're light. What the fuck happened?"

You laugh a little, and it's so uncharacteristic Sollux is leaning back to look at you, all bones and skin, and looking swamped in your sweater. "I couldn't sleep." his expression makes it funnier, somehow, but you don't keep laughing.

"What the actual fuck, KK." it's not a question, he's freaked out. "For how long?"

That is a question, you're pretty sure, so you answer it with something like a grin on your face, but it's anything from proud. "A perigee."

He gapes at you for a moment before making a kind of clicking hum that comes from his chest, a sound that's somewhere between pale pity and exhasperation, you think. "No wonder you're so fucked up right now." and perhaps you should have put anger in that list, because that's certainly what he sounds like right now, like he wants to hit you a little for doing this to yourself.

"Sorry." You mumble again, stumbling as he pulls you to your ablution chamber.

"Is this a thing?"

You think he means the sleeping disorder. "Yeah."

"For how long?"

You shrug because you actually don't remember. "Since before the game. When it got really bad I used to just get Vriska to just knock me out."

His facial expression is really complicated, and you're not sure what to think of it. "Why?"

"I used to be scared of going to sleep, so I just...didn't. That's when I was younger though." you're stumbling over your words almost as much as you're stumbling over your feet. Moving to the other room is slow going, but eventually you get there after almost taking you both out at least four times. "Now I just..._can't_." _because I don't want to have to handle those things again, or worse, think of new scenarios where everything can go right down the load gaper and I'll have to see you die again. _

"Day terrors?" He asks, as he opens the door and you lean on both him and the wall, and really, it's a wonder you actually haven't fallen over yet.

You realize that he asked you a question, and you nod as he hog marches you into the tiled room. "My brain just wont let me, you know, I'll be sleeping, and something will happen, and I'll just kind of...jolt awake." he takes off your shirt, and gestures for you to remove your pants as well, and you're practically sideways on the wall as you do so, not really thinking about much else except doing what he asked and answering his question. Focusing seems so hard right now, you don't want to stop in the middle of something important, so you speak slowly and shimmy out of your tight pants with practised ease. His hand is supporting your shoulder, and your back is facing him, so you can't really tell what he's thinking, but you can't really think about anything right now. You slip off your socks for good measure, and lean over to turn on the tap. "It's not like I haven't actually seen the inside of my pile lately, it's just that whenever I try, I wake myself up. I...accidentally knocked myself unconscious a couple of days ago, and that's the most rest I've gotten." You speak slowly, slurring occasionally, and uninhibited by rational thought. "If that can even count as rest."

He looks kind of horrified, and rights you up as you sway dangerously. "How?!"

"Punched myself in the face." you mumbled your answer, because yeah, that's really kind of embarrassing, whether you're aware enough to actually care or not. The tub is full, and steaming and he helps you slide neck deep into the thick green slime. You hiss as the abrasive slime gets to work on rubbing off all of the excess dirt and sweat that has gathered on your person, but goddamn if it doesn't feel fantastic and hot against your cold skin. The tub isn't especially wide, but the slime comes to your chin, and you carefully dunk your head for a minute, before Sollux gets nervous or something and pulls you back up by your shoulder. Suddenly, as if breaking the surface of the slime again helped you regain some form of rational thought, you are acutely aware that you're naked in front of one of your best friends, and this is basically the first time you've been naked in front of anyone that matters. You apologize again, for good measure, face flushing in a strange mixture of panic and shame.

* * *

Shit place to end it I know. More later.


End file.
